


If You Go Chasing Rabbits

by marie24



Category: Alice's Adventures in Wonderland & Related Fandoms, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Canon-Typical Violence, Harry IS Alice, Liam is the White Rabbit, Louis is the Knave of Hearts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28202163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marie24/pseuds/marie24
Summary: Harry falls into Wonderland and finds more there than he could have ever dreamed.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this in my docs for a few years now and am posting to try to motivate myself to finish it!! I'll add more tags as I go along. title is from Jefferson Airplane's "White Rabbit"

All Harry can hear is the beat of the music pounding around him as he scans the crowded room for a blonde head. Of course, after Gemma had dragged him here, she'd immediately left him to fend for himself. He sips on his third drink, wincing a bit as the vodka and artificial fruit burn down his throat. A blonde girl who is decidedly not Gemma stumbles near where he's made himself comfortable in a corner of the living room, and he watches in dismay as she sets her sights on him.   
  
“Hey,” she yells over the music, sidling up alongside him. Harry tries not to grimace.   
  
“Hi,” he answers, smiling politely, and shifts away from where she's pressed herself to his side. She’s much drunker than he is. Apparently she doesn't plan on saying anything else, just touching all over him clumsily, so after a minute of untangling her slightly sticky hands from his brown curls, Harry awkwardly clears his throat.   
  
“Um, oh!” He makes a show of looking to the other side of the room. “I think I see my friend, I have to go...” She makes a disapproving noise and clings onto his arm, trying to maneuver his leg between hers. He sighs. “Here, let me—”   
  
Extracting himself from her grip, he sits her down gently in the corner. She looks up at him in confusion at first, but then just closes her eyes when he says, “hold on a minute, stay here and just, rest a second, okay?” and worms his way through the crowd to the kitchen.   
  
At least it’s a tiny bit calmer in here. He roots around in the cupboards for an empty glass, finally finding one and filling it with cool water. Just as he turns to bring it to the girl, he hears a familiar voice carrying over the music somewhere near him. Harry almost can't believe it; it’s been so long since he'd last heard it — months, almost a year, but he can still feel the echo of the stinging barbs as they’d hit, dripping with fake concern.   
  
_I'm just looking for something... different, Harry. Someone I can rely on, who's going to be stable. I just don't think you're that guy._   
  
Harry turns his head slightly, and yes. There he is on the other side of the doorway. Matthew. Chatting up some guy and looking much too attractive, much too not-drunk, and much too _stable_ for Harry to deal with right now.   
  
He looks back down at the sink and tries not to panic. He gulps down the glass of water in his hand, then fills it up again. He steels himself to go past him through the doorway. He can do this.   
  
Okay, he can’t do this.   
  
Harry leaves the glass by the sink, slips out the side door, and walks around the house to the back patio in the dark, feeling guilty.   
  
Couples are going at it all along the edges of the dim porchlight, so he traipses further out into the dark part of the yard and flops to the ground with a sigh. He feels bad for leaving the blonde girl sitting in the corner sans water, but she'd probably fallen asleep already anyway.  
  
He smiles a little as he feels the first leaves of autumn crunch around him, then frowns again when he remembers the reason he’s out here in the first place. Why did Gemma have to bring him to this awful party? He doesn’t know anyone here besides her. Well, he'd thought so, anyway. She’d just wanted someone to fall back on if her date didn't work out, but judging from how much he's seen of her since she'd gone off with what's-his-name, their date is working out just fine — ew, Gemma on a date.   
  
The sky is clear above him and the night is getting chilly, even with the alcohol warming him. Harry pulls his coat a little tighter around him, glad he hadn't left it in the massive pile by the door when they'd first arrived. He sighs, listening absently to the faint strains of music pumping out of the house and the small sounds the few leaves make underneath him when he shifts.   
  
When he turns his head away from the house, he catches a glimpse of color – some of the last flowers of summer are growing not too far from him, white and red. Harry sits up, grinning, and picks just enough of them. He starts weaving, the soothing pattern of tying the stems off and twisting and repeating settling his brain a bit.   
  
When he’s finished, he holds it up in the direction of the porchlight. So it isn't the best flower crown he's ever made, but even with his half-drunken fingers, it certainly isn't the worst. Pleased with his work, he pushes it down into his curls and gets up to go find Gemma. Just then, his phone chimes.  
  
 ** _going home with Jason. call an uber, I know you're not enjoying this. we'll get the car tomorrow xxx_**  
  
Harry sighs as he texts her back an affirmative and a reluctant good luck. He should've known this would happen. Instead of calling an uber right away, he decides to sober up a bit first. It wouldn't do to run into Matthew under the influence on his way out, or to stumble drunkenly into his own flat in the middle of the night and wake everyone up, especially since he'd just moved in a few weeks ago.   
  
Pushing leaves out of the way and laying his coat down to make a more comfortable spot for himself to lay back on the last of the summer's soft grass, he closes his eyes to rest for just a minute more.   
  
*  
  
He’s cold and uncomfortable. As he shifts around on his bed to try and find a warmer spot, Harry suddenly realizes that he is _not_ in his bed. He sits up, then nearly falls back over when a headache hits him right between the eyes.   
  
“Ah!” he exclaims, holding his head in his hands. After taking a moment to recalibrate, he lifts his head again, slower this time. He looks around the yard with squinted eyes as the sun tries to blind him, and the night before comes flooding back.   
  
He groans. “Dammit,” he curses under his breath. How could he possibly have slept here the whole night?   
  
Feeling regrettably sober, he stands up carefully and brushes himself off. Checking his phone, he sees 28% battery and 7:32am. He shoves it back into the pocket of his jeans and groans again, rubbing his temples.   
  
Just as he’s about to set off to try and get an uber or call Gemma to come get him, as this is entirely her fault, Harry sees a flash of bright white out of his peripheral vision. Blinking quickly, he realizes that the white is something inside the bushes by the fence that runs along the edge of the backyard. Curious, he heads over to investigate.   
  
Harry kneels down and sticks his head in the bush, trying not to get his already mussed-up curls tangled in the branches. When he discovers that the white blob is actually a man wearing a white dress shirt, he gasps and crawls deeper to see if he can grab him and pull him out, assuming he crashed there drunk last night. As he makes his way further in than he'd thought the bushes even stretched, he carefully pokes the unconscious man's arm.   
  
“Um... hello?” he croaks. He clears his throat, which is thick with sleep and dry from alcohol, and tries again. “Hello? Are you okay?”   
  
The man stirs a little, eyelids fluttering. Harry breathes out in relief. So he isn't dead, that's the first good thing. As Harry keeps calling softly and poking at him to try and get him to wake up, the man shifts his limbs a bit. 

  
He looks to be in his mid 20s, about Harry's age, with dark brown hair slicked up in what had probably been a quiff at one point, and what looks to be several days worth of beard neatly trimmed. His black suit is crumpled everywhere, and his sensible tie, also black, is flung backwards over his shoulder. Harry can't imagine someone dressing up like this for the party last night, but he also can't think of any other explanation for the man's presence in the bushes in Gemma's friend's backyard.   
  
Finally, the man's eyes blink open. They’re dark brown and confused, darting everywhere as he obviously tries to figure out what’s going on.   
  
“Hello,” Harry says again. “Are you— are you alright?”   
  
The man's eyes widen as he takes in Harry above him and the bush around him. He frantically pats his suit jacket down, yanking a fancy-looking watch out from one of the pockets.   
  
“Oh god,” the man rasps out in a panicked voice. “I'm late.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's brow furrows at the man lying in front of him, and he opens his mouth to ask – what are you late for? Although the more fitting question is probably when he had hit his head.

Before he can speak, the man flips over onto his stomach, showing surprising agility for someone who’s just been unconscious, and starts crawling to the back of the bush. Harry's brow furrows deeper.

“Wait, hey!”

If the man hadn't hit his head before, he’s certainly about to. The fence can't be far at all with how far Harry had crawled to get to him in the first place. But the man in the suit just keeps going. Without thinking, Harry follows.

“Excuse me!” he tries. “Excuse me, are you alright? What are you late for?” But the man keeps going without a reply, getting farther and farther ahead, and soon it’s so dark that Harry can hardly see a thing. When he realizes this, he freezes. How can it be this dark? How long has he been crawling? The bushes aren't this thick. Come to think of it, they aren't this deep at all. Where is he?

He looks back and sees nothing but black behind him. Up ahead he can see something bright — like a train's light might look about 40 seconds before it runs him down. The man-who’s-late disappears into it as he watches. Still following him, Harry begins cautiously inching forward again, realizing now that the dirt and sticks under him had turned to grass at some point. 

Even though he's begun to shake, Harry feels like he can't stop moving forward until he finds out who the man is and how the hell the bush is growing like this. He starts to pick up speed, hoping to catch up and find out what’s going on before the man gets too much farther ahead. 

It comes out of nowhere – one second his elbows are squeaking over blades of grass, and the next, he’s tumbling head-over-heels down into a deeper blackness. 

Harry yelps as he flips over and over, flailing his arms and trying desperately to grab onto something. The thought flashes loudly through his head: _I'm going to die. _Just as he thinks it, he feels a sharp jerk on his body and is sure the end has come.__

____

But then it doesn't — he just keeps floating downward, slower now, like an invisible parachute has been opened for him. 

____

He opens his eyes and still only sees pitch-black around him. He closes and opens them again a few more times as he cautiously spreads his trembling limbs out and tries to touch something, anything solid. Taking a few shaky breaths, Harry tries to get himself under control.

____

When he risks a look down, his breathing speeds up again. He sees a light below that’s getting closer and closer, and the air starts to feel hot and damp and sticky around him. Harry’s fall slows even more until he’s landing gently, his (probably ruined now) suede boots sinking into sand. He looks around, taking in the scene around him with wide eyes.

____

So… Okay. He’s in the middle of some kind of ocean. On some kind of island. With no sign at all of where he came from in the sky. The sky!

____

_Fuck._

____

_Fuck!_

____

What the fuck has he gotten himself into?

____

The day’s bright, enough that he has to squint against it, but no matter which direction he looks, he can’t find the sun. He swallows hard. Suddenly he hears the faint sounds of paddling and a boat slapping against the ocean waves. Whirling around, he sees a small dinghy manned by two people passing by the little island - and one of them looks to be the man from the bushes.

____

“Hey!” Harry shouts, jumping up and down frantically. Wherever he is, he’s never getting back home if he doesn’t get off this tiny island. “Hey, over here! Hey!”

____

At first he thinks the boat’s just going to go right past, but then it looks like the man spots him. When they push up against the sand, Harry thinks he’s going to cry from relief.

____

“Hi! Hi, hey, um, hi, do you remember me? I’m Harry, I don’t think I told you my name before, but you were in, um, a bush? I don’t know if you remember that, but -"

____

“What are you doing here?” The man cuts off his nervous rambling, looking concerned.

____

“Oh! Um… Well… I’m not really sure how to answer that… I was just, I was, well, the bush - and then I fell, and -”

____

As he stammers, the two men trade a look that Harry can’t read. The late one cuts him off again.

____

“Okay nevermind, I don’t have time for this. Here, just come with us, please.” He grabs Harry’s arm and tugs him the couple of steps to the dinghy, adding almost as an afterthought - “Oh, and I’m Liam.”

____

“Nice to meet you, Liam.” Harry smiles weakly and tries to pretend like they’re meeting under normal circumstances, not in the middle of a potentially magic ocean about to get into his dinghy.

____

They push back from the shore, Liam in the front rowing, Harry on the small bench in the middle, and the other man in the back, also rowing. 

____

The man behind him doesn’t say anything when Harry turns to look at him in the back of the boat, just gazes back with eyes the same color as the ocean they’re sailing on. Harry had been about to ask his name, but is struck dumb by the way his body moves, glistening with saltwater and sweat as he pushes and pulls the paddles of the boat in time with Liam. He’s golden-skinned with a compact, muscular body, and his light brown hair is long enough that it flips up a bit in the back. It’s wild in the front, somehow both plastered to his forehead and sticking up in all directions. His shirt is ragged and practically nonexistent, doing nothing to cover his heaving chest as he works against the sea.

____

He meets Harry’s wandering gaze with an amused quirk of his pink lips, and Harry can feel his cheeks redden as he immediately looks away. He panics - if he doesn’t say something now, it will be too awkward later, but if he says something now after he caught him staring, it will _still_ be awkward. In the end, Liam rescues him.

____

“That’s Louis,” he grunts, white dress shirt sticking to his sweaty back right in front of Harry. “He’s a pain in the arse.”

____

Harry snorts quietly, looking over his shoulder in time to see Louis rolling his eyes. He still doesn’t say anything, and Harry is again rescued from having to come up with an answer when a second later Liam yells, “Come _on_ , Louis, I’m _late_ ,” and their pulls get harder and faster.

____

In the next minutes, Harry notices a shoreline approaching, with a small beach and what looks to be a huge forest behind. When they shove up on the shore, Harry scrambles out, wondering what the hell he’s going to do next. Louis and Liam are both soaked from jumping out in the water to pull the boat in, and Harry tries his best not to notice the way the drops are running down Louis’ (very tan) skin, or how his soaked trousers are clinging to his (very lovely) arse.

____

He’s so concentrated on looking the other way that he doesn’t notice Louis coming up next to him, jumping when he feels a hand right by his head.

____

“Settle down, curly,” Louis says with a grin, pulling something out of his (he’s sure ridiculous-looking) hair. Between his fingers Louis is twirling one of the red flowers from his flower crown last night, and at the sight of it Harry’s transported back to the moment of peace he’d had while making it. Looking at the flower, it feels like everything that’s just happened crashes down on him at once, and to his horror, his eyes start to fill up with tears. Louis looks startled.

____

“Whoa, hey now, what’s the matter?” he asks, shuffling a bit closer as Harry blinks rapidly and clears his throat against the oncoming sobs.

____

“Um,” Harry tries after a moment, his voice watery, “um, you know, I just don’t really know… um, where I am? Or how I’m-” his voice cracks and he pauses to swallow- “how I’m going to get back… home.” He looks down at his (definitely ruined) boots and self-consciously runs a hand through his tangled hair. Louis hands him the flower.

____

“It’s alright,” he says, the tone of his voice unreadable. “Hey, really, it’s alright.” When Harry looks up, he smiles encouragingly. “You’ll find your way home.”

____

He walks off rather quickly, moving to the other side of the boat to mess with a pack that Harry hadn’t noticed before. Liam is tying the boat off a bit frantically. As Harry walks up he hears him cursing under his breath. 

____

“Um… Liam?” he begins hesitantly. Liam looks up, strands of hair flopping into his face, his hands never stopping their work of securing their boat to the shore. “Hey, so I was just wondering, um… This may be a silly question, but… Where are we?” Liam’s hands stop moving and he sighs. Harry chews on his lip nervously.

____

“Well,” he starts, “right now we’re on the outskirts of Wonderland, but -”

____

Harry interrupts with a laugh. “Wait, sorry, Wonderland?”

____

Liam raises his eyebrows, apparently not amused by his own joke. Harry gives another little laugh.

____

“Sorry, I mean, _Wonderland_ though, really? That’s a bit ridiculous for a name, isn’t it?”

____

“It’s a bit ridiculous that you fell out of the sky onto an island in an ocean, isn’t it?” Liam replies, still not smiling. Harry laughs again, more of nervous giggle this time, and tries to tamp down on his rising panic.

____

“Well, you’ve got me there,” he says, voice high, raising his palms in a placating gesture. “Okay, sorry, so uh, Wonderland."

____

Liam blinks at him for a second before continuing. “So we’re on the outskirts of Wonderland, right by the Old Forest. Lou and I are heading into MacEain, the capital. I guess you should probably come with us.” He shrugs. “At least for now, till we figure out, you know,” he falters for the first time, looking to the side then shrugging again. “Till we figure out how to get you back, I guess.”

____

Harry’s silent, trying to control his breathing again as his vision gets blurry. He knows that panicking won’t do him any good but he feels it rising inside him again like the waves he can hear crashing on the shore. He hears Liam go back to tying the last knots for the boat, dropping down on the sand, sticking his head between his knees and closing his eyes.

____

“Harry?” he hears a voice say, then feels a gentle hand on his back. “Hey, come on now, you need to breathe, okay?”

____

He takes in one deep breath, then another, slowly regaining some control. After a minute, the hand is gone and he hears a body plopping down next to him, close enough to reassure him with its warmth, but not so close he feels crowded. Louis’ sitting there when he opens his eyes, drawing little designs in the sand with his finger before wiping them away to draw more.

____

“Thanks,” Harry says softly. Louis gives a small smile.

____

“It’s alright.” Then he glances back behind him and rolls his eyes. “Well _someone_ is ready to go, so I think we need to get moving, if you feel okay.”

____

Harry nods, muttering “sorry” as he stands up shakily and tries to brush the sand off his jeans. Liam’s standing a few feet away practically vibrating as he waits for them to get up.

____

Louis swings his pack over his shoulders and sets out into the forest in front of them, Liam beside him and Harry behind, trying to keep up.

____


End file.
